


Hearts and Polka dots

by TheFluffehGAMER



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Mentions of Spamano, One-Shot, song prompt, with a pinch of angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-08
Updated: 2015-08-08
Packaged: 2018-04-13 16:12:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,687
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4528572
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheFluffehGAMER/pseuds/TheFluffehGAMER
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For once, the weather cried for me, since I had already wept myself dry. I guess that's why I decided to take a walk outside after lying in the waters of self-pity for way too long. Maybe I'd actually get over him after five months of cringing at couples and heart-shaped cookies that always came with my coffee.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hearts and Polka dots

**Author's Note:**

> A small side shot I've been working on the side for a few days now, based on 'Guess I'll hang my tears out to dry' and 'How do you mend a broken heart.' Don't worry, I'll get back to my Spamano spawn soon. I even have a third AU planned that will come up in a month or so after I finish the other two.

It had been a few months since I’d gotten the let-down. The rain cried for me and stained my cheeks with creeks and streams in my pores, a light sigh mimicking the gentle drizzle. It was hard to stray too close to the warm, comforting bakery -a trap for lovers and mellow memories. In fact, I usually walk on the other side of the street to avoid it. However, today it once again ensnared me, drawing in my honey golden eyes to the signs with cheesy one-liners and sayings I knew too well.

I ambled in with a feeling of irony, shaking off my bright yellow umbrella in the buzz of chatter and laughter, the smell of Francis’s pastries invading the freshly ground coffee taint. Why ironic? Well, I found it impossible to ignore the swamping of hearts in the foam, fabric, eyes… it was like no matter where I went there was this sickness called love I both craved and shunned.

Sure, I wasn’t left at the altar, but the pain must have been near spot on when golden-hearted, beautiful, perfect Ludwig decided he’d had enough of me. I hadn’t been able to open my flower shop for two days, too nauseous to look at roses or carnations. I’d listened to a life-time of Taylor Swift and Meghan Trainor, going even further to eat an entire tub of cheap chocolate ice-cream. By the time I’d come out of my blankets and messy unmade sheets, the sunny days had faded into grey cloudy skies that once again matched my mood. Lonely, melancholic and tired.

I ran my nimble fingers through my damp hair, taking over a small table stuffed next to the window, examining the pastel coloured tea-pots and tins with labels such as “cookies” or “sweet treats.” I jumped slightly when the French accent startled me from my thoughts, proving just how forlorn my jumbled questions had made me, chasing away the smiles and sunshine. “Ah, Feli, it’s been too long!” Francis exclaimed, the hot pink hearts dotting his apron distracting my attention to the words “Kiss le cook” embroided across his chest. I smiled softly and nodded, sitting up straighter. “Hmm, it has been a couple weeks…” I replied, the chipper edge to my voice hacked away. Francis frowned and sat across from me, knitting his fine flour covered fingers together. “Come now, we haven’t heard a peep,” He sighed, hair falling perfectly as he tilted his head to rest his sharp cheekbones against dusty knuckles, “There are plenty of fish in the ocean, don’t be so down, mon chéri.” I echoed his sigh and pressed my fingers against my lips, examining the pattern on the table. Pastel polka dots.

“Please Francis, I don’t want to hear it,” _I’ve heard enough from Lovino already_ , I added to myself, exhaling the words in a puff of irritation. Before he could slide in another word, I butted in with “A cappuccino, please,” The undertones of pleading reopening the crusty scars in my ears from the pathetic wavering of my own voice. Francis seemed stuck for a few seconds, glancing between an increasingly irritated old lady who kept sending less than subtle summons of a waiter.“Feli Please… Just don’t eat too much ice-cream,” He smiled sadly, eyes betraying the witty and flamboyant man.

I waited patiently, pulling out my brilliant camera to take snapshots of the shattered reflection in the roads. However, many times my thumb would stray to the gallery option, already knowing that I would begin wallowing in self-pity if I saw those vibrant hipster photos of Ludwig and I on the beach. I had ripped most of the horrid reprints off my walls and even broken a couple of photo frames in the process. The only regret was not cleaning up properly and getting glass stuck in my foot.

I flinched slightly at the mug as it arrived with another stupid foam heart, faking a bright smile to the newish waiter, his nervous green eyes reminding me of Lovino’s boyfriend, Antonio. As he left, I shot a glare at Francis, who was blatantly watching me, a gentle shrug of the shoulders and wink contorting the glare into a scowl usually found on my brother’s features.

Trying not to think about it too hard – or even acknowledge the fact that it existed- I tried my best to nonchalantly take the factory bred cup. Instead, I ended up simply knocking it over onto the polka dot fabric. I hissed in surprise and embarrassment, righting what was left of my drink and dignity, hands shaking. Francis came to rush over, passing a cloth –covered in more flower patterns- into my hands as he went to go grab another cloth to help. I easily began cleaning up the mess, ignoring the usual chime of a bell from the entrance.

Clearly today was not my day, because as soon as I tried to stand, I clipped my head on the edge of the damned table, sending my head into a spin. Before I could fully recover, an oddly soft and familiar voice pierced through the void straight into my heart, a random shot in the dark that hit the mark too well for my liking. I hadn’t been more alert in the previous few months, maybe even my life, than the moment when the polka dots in my vision disappeared to reveal a shocked, possibly awestruck, Ludwig.

I heard a short gasp somewhere near the kitchen, effectively pulling me from my stupor to once again feel the water works start the flooding onto my cheeks. I wished it was the rain. I don’t think I’ve ever felt my face heat to this degree. I stuffed everything into my satchel and slapped a payment, that was way over the price, onto the table stuttering out an abundance of excuses off the top of my head to leave. I only noticed the chatter had stopped when my footsteps and small hiccups where the only thing that filled my ears.

Usually I was the one clinging to people, but it hurt too much to see something you can never hold and touch again in a way all too sensational to be friendly. I rushed out into the rain, forgetting to open the umbrella bumping against my hip, the drizzle somehow drenching me in a matter of seconds.

I gasped at the temperature change, eyes widening in a comical manner, freezing my footsteps. It happened to be enough time to have Ludwig barreling out of the café to call out to me, the aching voice melting the frostbite incasing my nerves. I bit my lip and took a few more steps away from brokered promises and shattered hope, not daring to plant another flower in fear of having it die.

The steps became strides and before I registered it, I was sprinting away, desperately digging my palms into my cheeks to wipe away the salty drops of rain. Yet, a strong, firm grip on my wrist jolted my body to a halt, swiftly facing everything I'd ever wanted and wished for. Eyes that spoke of summer days and hair that gleamed like a halo in the low lighting, only two qualities that scraped the surface of the dream before me, that only described the angel I'd praised for two years. His thumb drew circles on my palm, my heart stuttering with a undeniable love for this stern, flustered creature I'd pine after for the rest of my life.

 

And yet, I tried to wrench away. “Please, let go, Ludwig…” I whimpered, refusing to look away from the mottled tar road, in case I couldn't take the blue depths I so happily drowned in till I couldn't feel anything else. His grip tightened and before I could fully understand what was happening, the smell of stay soft and something entirely Ludwig swarmed my senses, his hands resting on my shoulder blades and his breath ghosting over my hair. “I… I'm sorry, I made a stupid mistake, I-I shouldn't have…” His voice cracked as he gently squeezed me tighter, a unheard whimper passing between my teeth. As much as I wanted to simply capture the lips that only belonged to me, a seed of doubt was quickly choking the rose ensnaring my heart. _What if he leaves me again? What if he gets bored of me after another two years, or four even?_ His heart raced against my ear as the rain beat down on our shoulders, pausing time for us. “I-how can I trust you again?” I whispered, arms falling limply to my sides, too distraught to try feel sadness anymore. I felt the way he tensed, breath hitching. “We both know that's a question I can’t answer,” He softly replied, his finger gently hooking under my chin to force our eyes to meet.

It was like the universe suddenly made sense again when I was enchanted by those eyes. I searched and searched for lies, anything that might cure my easily swayed nerves, only finding a grief and painful loneliness that didn't fit in the icy orbs. “Then make a promise…” I murmured, the rose’s thorns destroying the doubt when the universe brightened, a glimmer of a smile passing over Ludwig’s lips. “Promise me you'll stick through, even when it gets rocky- promise me you'll never stop loving me… And all my flaws,” I softly breathed, struggling to not succumb to the grip on the back of my soaked shirt, my lungs struggling to take in air when he stooped down, pausing a few mere centimeters from my cherry red lips. “As long as I live, liebling…” He replied before slotting his mouth against mine, gasping as my knees went weak and I clung to his less pristine shirt for support, finally beaming for the first time in three months.

And just like that, I felt more giddy about Francis’s café with all those wonderful hearts and polka dots, rather than sick. Or I may not have noticed because Ludwig was holding my hand and telling me how much he loved the tablecloths.


End file.
